


Don't Get A-Head of Yourself

by CosmicMind



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dullahan Soldier, Dullahans, M/M, Post WAR!, cross faction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 06:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicMind/pseuds/CosmicMind
Summary: Demoman learns an interesting fact about his lover in the midst of Soldier's seasonal allergies.(For Boots & Bombs Week 2019 Day 1: Myth)





	Don't Get A-Head of Yourself

While killing his best friend every day wasn’t Demoman’s favorite thing in the world, it sure beat getting caught for treason. If Demoman and Soldier began to go soft on each other, the woman on the speakers would definitely notice. They both knew this. So, killing each other in horrific and violent ways was just a normal day at work for them; no harsh feelings.

 

Today’s location was the rarely used Hydro, which both sets of mercenaries equally detested due to the confusing layout and constantly shifting points. Though they still had a job to do, and Demoman wasn’t going to let the complaints of his team mates keep him from splitting off on his own. Clutching Eyelander in his hands, he carefully rounded each corner with his ears figuratively pricked. In such tight spaces as this, he could be ambushed at any moment.

 

After ten minutes of nothing, Demoman groaned and set Eyelander down to pull out his flask. This was his own fault for wanting to stray from the action to ambush the unsuspecting BLUs. This entire day was downright _boring_! He only ran into the BLU Scout twice and had to run from the Pyro once. Judging by the lack of the Administrator’s voice over the intercoms, maybe everyone else was just as bored as he was.

 

Demoman swished the vodka in his water flash around as he shielded his eye from the blistering sun overhead. The New Mexico sun never ceased to fry the mercenaries to crisps, even if Demoman was blessed with more melanin than most of his colleagues. It still made his boiler suit feel uncomfortable to shift around in, with its several layers of clothing and heavy vest. Looking back, he wished he put actual water in this flask so he could pour some over his sweaty scalp underneath his beanie.

 

Just as Demoman was about to sit down for a little break, he heard a faint, yet quickly approaching, noise. He jumped to his feet in seconds and grabbed Eyelander again, holding it in attack-reading position tight in his grip. Finally, some real action.

 

He carefully approached a corner of red rock and pressed against it, making sure to quiet his breathing. There were heavy footsteps, but only one pair. A one-on-one battle, just how Demoman liked it. He grinned and held his sword above his head, ready to strike the unsuspecting victim.

 

But no one ever came around the corner. The footsteps stopped right before they fully reached Demoman and was replaced by suspenseful silence. Demoman gulped and his grip faltered a bit. Did they know he was here? Had the Pyro figured out where he was and was ready to burn his face off the second Demoman peeked around the corner? Was Demoman just going crazy?

 

No, Demoman was the least crazy person he knew. There was definitely someone there, and Demoman was ready to play chicken is he had to.

 

Thus, a silent standoff began. Demoman stood stock-still against the rocky wall, waiting for a single sound to come from the opposite side as his cue. For several minutes, neither party made a move, and Demoman was ready to just give off an assume he was going crazy from the desert heat.

 

Then a faint, muffled sneeze was heard.

 

Demoman grinned a wicked grin to himself and tightened his grip on the handle of his prized sword. This was practically too easy of a kill, and Demoman had it all to himself. He took a final deep breath and burst from around the corner, sword over his head. The second he saw a flash of blue, he took a mighty swing towards the neck area.

 

The body fell to the ground in seconds, and the head rolled towards Demoman’s feet. Getting a good look at his slain enemy at last, Demoman couldn’t help but wince. It was Soldier- _his_ Jane Doe. While Demoman was no longer traumatized by having to brutally murder his best friend and lover, he still felt bad that he couldn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking his foe in the eye.

 

 _‘Oh well, he won’t mind_ ,’ Demoman thought as he shrugged, smiling as he picked up the decapitated head. Soldier’s mouth was hung open and his eyes staring blankly off into the distance in mid-scream, expression frozen in the look of horror before his temporary demise.

 

Demoman always figured the fact that Eyelander was haunted meant that the wounds instantly cauterized, as Soldier never seemed to bleed. Which was fine, as the lack of blood made the death of his friend easier to stomach. He gently ran his thumb along Soldier’s still warm cheek flesh as the other hand shifted to close his rich blue eyes.

 

“No hard feelings, luv,” Demoman whispered to the head’s ear, planting a kiss on the forehead. He glanced up at the cameras and cleared his throat, smirking at his so-called “foe” in his hands. “And stay dead, ya bloody loon.”

 

There was no use in dwelling over the dead; Demoman had a team to get back to and a game to win. He was just about ready to throw the head down when something happened. Now, Demoman was used to surprises in his life, especially after learning that death was only a temporary setback and doctors were able to turn mortals into gods since joining this team. However, none of his life experiences could have prepared for what had occurred in his hands.

 

The head sneezed. The _severed_ head of Soldier that was supposed to be dead within seconds of being cut from the body let out a hard, loud sneeze. He opened his eyes and his eyes went wide, just remembering that dead men aren’t supposed to sneeze.

 

His mouth formed a thin line as Demoman stared at him, frozen in shock. “Uh…” he said, “I have seasonal allergies, remember?”

 

Demoman shrieked and slammed Soldier’s head on the ground like a football.

 

* * *

 

 

“So… yer tellin’ me that yer a ‘Dullahan,’ right? That’s the word?”

 

“Affirmative.”

 

“Like… headless horseman kinda bloke? Ye can take yer head off at will, throw it at people, yadda yadda ya. That kinda Dullahan?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Demoman put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples as he tried to process this new information for the third time. Demoman had avoided Soldier for the rest of that battle that day, even though the other mercenary kept his head where it should be as he flew above the battlements. Though they didn’t need to speak to know that they kind of needed to talk about this, so they were drawn to their secret hiding place in one of Hydro’s broom closets they snuck a mattress into months ago.

 

Demoman wanted to be understanding, but dammit, Soldier did not make it easy when he was sitting right next to Demoman holding his own head in his lap!

 

“Are you… mad?” Soldier asked, his shoulders- well, his _body’s_ shoulder- hunched.

 

“Wha’?” Demoman said, lifting his head up but unable to look Soldier in the eyes, even if Soldier removed his helmet for this conversation. The light blue flame slowly trickling from Soldier’s neck cavity kept his eye focused than Soldier’s head. “No, no, I’m not mad just… this is a lot. I mean, I always thought creatures like Dracula and werewolves were myths but… here ye are, in the flesh!”

 

“I know,” Soldier muttered sadly, “I was going to plan to tell you… _eventually_ , but I could not stop the pollen in time today and blew my cover.”

 

“Does the, uh… does the rest of BLU know?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Not even yer Medic?”

 

“Afraid not. You’re the only other person that knows. Well, besides Merasmus, but he’s magic, so he figured it out quickly.”

 

“I see,” Demoman sighed.

 

As an awkward silence entered the room, Demoman began to worry about the future as a thousand of anxieties attacked his mind. What else had Soldier lied about? Could Demoman still be attracted to Soldier, much less still be able to be normal friends? Did the Administrator know about this? Did Dullahans outlive humans?

 

“You do not have to stay, you know,” Soldier spoke up once more, his hands shifting his head around nervously as his jaw moved around- a nervous habit of Soldier’s- as he glanced off to the concrete ground, “I understand if this is too shocking.”

 

“Jane, I,” Demoman replied, but cut himself off as he got distracted by the blue flame again. He adjusted his position to finally face Soldier more, reaching a hand up. “Is that flame… hot?”

 

Soldier glanced up at his own neck and shook his head. “I do not think so,” he admitted, “It does not burn like regular fire; my clothes and furniture never get ruined.”

 

“I see,” Demoman murmured as he trailed off. Cautiously, he moved his hand gradually towards the flame, fearing the worst. He poked his index finger in first, squeezing his eye shut as he prepared for his flesh to catch on fire.

 

But it didn’t erupt into flames. In fact, it wasn’t even hot- more of a pleasant warm sensation. Demoman opened his eye again and gazed at the flame in awe as he stuck his whole hand in. It was as if he wrapped his hand in a warm glove and was mesmerized as the flame only grew as it came into more contact with Demoman, nearly reaching the ceiling.

 

Soldier began to chuckle, his head making the noises as his body had the shoulder raising of a good, hearty laugh. Demoman yanked his hand out and observed the flame slowly go back to its normal state. He raised an eyebrow down at Soldier.

 

“It tickles,” Soldier said as he wiped a tear from his eye.

 

“It does?” Demoman asked, shifting his gaze from the flame and at Soldier.

 

“I’ve never had someone do that before,” Soldier admitted, “It doesn’t work when I do it to myself.”

 

“Well, ye can’t tickle yerself,” Demoman said. The both shared another round of soft chuckling before Demoman continued the conversation, deciding he may as well be adventurous after this very, very strange day so far. “Do you mind if I… hold yer head?”

 

“Go ahead,” Soldier replied, grinning widely as if he’s been waiting for that offer all day. His body pivoted and lifted his head off his lap, holding it out to Demoman. Demoman cautiously took the head, despite being more confident than before. It’s not every day he got to pick up a severed head that was still alive and talking.

 

Soldier’s head was a bit heavy, like a head should be, but a comfortable weight in Demoman’s palms. There was so much trust in Soldier’s eyes, and Demoman couldn’t help but smile to show Soldier’s he’s in safe hands (literally). Demoman tenderly lifted the face closer to his own and proceeded to engage in a gentle kissing session. As they shared each other’s taste and heat, Soldier’s flame was now shooting towards the ceiling and excitedly bouncing on the old mattress.

 

Demoman let out a sigh of content. It was still his Soldier that he’s grown to love so much, even if there’s one tiny difference. They’ve worked through a whole little feud between each other and made up eventually, so why wouldn’t they be able to work on this new dynamic?

 

Yeah, this was weird as hell, but not bad. Not bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Dullahan Soldier was heavily inspired by the character Kyouko Machi from "Interviews with Demi-Chan" which is a super cute anime


End file.
